


The Wendigo

by fab_fan



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, Light Angst, Mild angst maybe, Not Happy, Suicidal Thoughts, hello darkness my old friend, she's in a dark place folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25259320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_fan/pseuds/fab_fan
Summary: Was she the Wendigo? The ancient monster her ancestors feared? A horrible creature that took over a body, wreaking havoc on all it encountered? Unbalancing the earth and devouring everything in sight?Did her greed, her insatiable need for a girl with pretty blue eyes and an alluring smirk cause her to consume her without meaning to?
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during Episode 6. Right before the Salva Incident.

Empty.

Still.

Silent.

The room was like a ghost, an apparition, not real. 

No movement, no sound, nothing but furniture and streaks of sunlight that had no right to be there. No right to pretend like it could light anything, chase away the darkness, get rid of the demons lurking in every corner, in every crack and crevice and inch of space. Haunting words and moments that screamed so loud it was a wonder no one else could hear them. 

No one else could hear them.

No one else cared.

No one else noticed.

They shouldn't.

Why would they?

It wasn’t their problem. Not their fault. Not their monsters clawing at tattered scarred flesh, sharp teeth invisibly ripping apart and consuming their souls until there was nothing left than a black nothingness.

It was so quiet, yet so loud. Silent, yet deafening.

Everything hurt.

She felt nothing at all.

Her bones ached.

Her body was numb.

She was exhausted.

She couldn’t sleep.

This was all her fault.

She did this.

If Scylla hadn’t been at the wedding. If she hadn’t tried to get her invited. If she hadn’t been so selfish wanting her girlfriend at her side that Scylla snuck in to be with her, none of this would have happened.

Scylla would still be alive.

Her lover would still be alive.

Raelle stood in the center of the dorm room, unable to move. Feet heavy as stone and limbs nothing more than useless smatterings of flesh that couldn’t do anything right. 

Couldn’t save Scylla.

Had she even tried? Scylla was right there, but then Raelle turned to help someone else, didn’t watch out for Scylla, didn’t protect her.

Didn’t know she was gone until it was too late.

Wasn’t holding her hand. Didn’t stay by her side. 

Scylla died, and she wasn’t even _there_. 

Just like her mama.

Her hero. The woman who taught Raelle how to fix people. How to heal. 

Raelle couldn’t heal her.

Everyone Raelle loved left. Died. 

Was it her? Was it her touch? She kissed Scylla, and now she was gone? Held her in her arms as they danced only to have her taken away? She hugged her mama goodbye only for her to never come back home?

What good was she?

Was she the curse? The problem?

Always a problem.

Abigail saw her as a problem. Anacostia. Even Tally. 

Tally wouldn't even look at her.

They knew. They all knew she was the problem.

She should have stuck to her plan. Got sent to the front lines as quickly as possible. Didn’t make friends. Didn’t fall in love. Didn’t do anything but find the welcome release of death. Join her mama and end whatever torture she might inflict on anyone else unlucky enough to be in her orbit.

She sniffed, letting the tears roll down her face. Eyes so blurry the world tilted and twisted like the grief coiled and wrapped around her stomach in an ever tightening noose.

She glanced over at her bed, at the dreamcatcher hanging near her bunk.

A gift from her mama when she was young. To protect her when she couldn’t.

Was she the one needing protecting? Or was it everyone else?

Was she the Wendigo? The ancient monster her ancestors feared? A horrible creature that took over a body, wreaking havoc on all it encountered? Unbalancing the earth and devouring everything in sight?

Did her greed, her insatiable need for a girl with pretty blue eyes and an alluring smirk cause her to consume her without meaning to?

She was the weak link. Always had been. She held Tally and Abigail back. Everyone knew it. She was just the stupid Cession nobody. Destined to be not even a footnote in someone’s history. She wasn’t meant to be. Shouldn’t even exist. A halfbreed. Not native enough for the tribe and not refined enough for the High Atlantics. Not the good little soldier who the officers smiled upon. Not a witch. Not a civilian.

Not even strong enough, fast enough, smart enough to keep her girl safe the one moment she needed to.

But, Scylla couldn't be gone, could she? Raelle slowly lifted her hand, left palm hazy as she blinked against the tears coating her lashes. The S had been there. She was sure of it. Everyone thought she was crazy, but she saw it. 

Scylla’s S.

Every mistake, every regret, every stupid thing she’d ever done, weighed on her like chains, drawing her down to her knees. 

But, she had one chance.

No one would listen.

She could still save Scylla.

Keep her safe.

Do one thing right. 

The beach. She would be at the beach. They talked so much about it. The one place Scylla felt safe. Raelle could keep her safe. Could make her happy. She failed everyone else. Her Mama. Her Pop. Abigail. Tally. Anacostia. 

Not Scylla. Not yet.

Everyone was wrong. 

She could meet her at the beach. 

They could be together.

Scylla could banish the Wendigo inside her for one more moment, one mere second, and allow Raelle the chance to tell her she loved her too.

Raelle just had to find her. Get to her. Get to the beach.

As if possessed, the monster inside caused her creaky bones to break and meld back together, crunch into moveable sticks that stumbled toward the lockers. Rickety fingers dug and dug, clumsy twigs in mud, jutting and stabbing until tiny patches dotted her palms like stars in the midnight sky. Burning and beckoning to touch her skin. To take her back to that night. That tree. That moment she floated above the earth and met the edges of eternity with the girl of her dreams. So close to being one with the birds that used to fly high overhead back in the Cession. When she was closer than ever to being Nanabozho rather than the Wendigo. 

She could be with Scylla. Keep her promise to be with her. To go swim in the ocean with her.

To be hers.

The others would understand. They wouldn’t even care. They could go on with their lives, unburdened and free to succeed. To be top of their class without the heavy weight of the Cession. Tally wouldn’t have to pretend like she couldn't stand to be around Raelle anymore. Abigail wouldn’t have to continue to worry about her life being ruined.

Her Pop wouldn’t have to keep wondering when his daughter would die.

Everyone would be happy. 

She wanted everyone to be happy. 

She could be nice.

She could do the right thing. Listen to the guilt whispering in the back of her mind and finally stop being the reckless waste of talent others said she was. Stop blowing it and be the blame for ruined lives. Remove herself from the narrative. 

She curled her hands into a fist around the salva.

She was going to find Scylla and be with her. 

She wasn’t dead.

Raelle believed it.

They could be together.

She just had to go to her.

Go to the beach. 

Their beach.

Fly away from the demons and darkness.

Fly away.

She could fix everything.

Finally make her mama proud.

Finally be the person her Pop said she could be.

The brave fixer Anacostia called her once.

She could fix it all.

Find the one person she could save.

Who had saved her.

She just had to _go_ to do it.


	2. The Extended Version

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some folks heard there was a slightly longer version and asked for it. Here you go.

Empty.

Still.

Silent.

The room was like a ghost, an apparition, not real. 

No movement, no sound, nothing but furniture and streaks of sunlight that had no right to be there. No right to pretend like it could light anything, chase away the darkness, get rid of the demons lurking in every corner, in every crack and crevice and inch of space. Haunting words and moments that screamed so loud it was a wonder no one else could hear them. 

No one else could hear them.

No one else cared.

No one else noticed.

They shouldn't.

Why would they?

It wasn’t their problem. Not their fault. Not their monsters clawing at tattered scarred flesh, sharp teeth invisibly ripping apart and consuming their souls until there was nothing left than a black nothingness.

It was so quiet, yet so loud. Silent, yet deafening.

Everything hurt.

She felt nothing at all.

Her bones ached.

Her body was numb.

She was exhausted.

She couldn’t sleep.

This was all her fault.

She did this.

If Scylla hadn’t been at the wedding. If she hadn’t tried to get her invited. If she hadn’t been so selfish wanting her girlfriend at her side that Scylla snuck in to be with her, none of this would have happened.

Scylla would still be alive.

Her lover would still be alive.

Raelle stood in the center of the dorm room, unable to move. Feet heavy as stone and limbs nothing more than useless smatterings of flesh that couldn’t do anything right. 

Couldn’t save Scylla.

Had she even tried? Scylla was right there, but then Raelle turned to help someone else, didn’t watch out for Scylla, didn’t protect her.

Didn’t know she was gone until it was too late.

Wasn’t holding her hand. Didn’t stay by her side. 

Scylla died, and she wasn’t even _there_. 

Just like her mama.

Her hero. The woman who taught Raelle how to fix people. How to heal. 

Raelle couldn’t heal her.

Everyone Raelle loved left. Died. 

Was it her? Was it her touch? She kissed Scylla, and now she was gone? Held her in her arms as they danced only to have her taken away? She hugged her mama goodbye only for her to never come back home?

What good was she?

Was she the curse? The problem?

Always a problem.

Abigail saw her as a problem. Anacostia. Even Tally. 

Tally wouldn't even look at her.

They knew. They all knew she was the problem.

She should have stuck to her plan. Got sent to the front lines as quickly as possible. Didn’t make friends. Didn’t fall in love. Didn’t do anything but find the welcome release of death. Join her mama and end whatever torture she might inflict on anyone else unlucky enough to be in her orbit.

She sniffed, letting the tears roll down her face. Eyes so blurry the world tilted and twisted like the grief coiled and wrapped around her stomach in an ever tightening noose.

She glanced over at her bed, at the dreamcatcher hanging near her bunk.

A gift from her mama when she was young. To protect her when she couldn’t.

Was she the one needing protecting? Or was it everyone else?

Was she the Wendigo? The ancient monster her ancestors feared? A horrible creature that took over a body, wreaking havoc on all it encountered? Unbalancing the earth and devouring everything in sight?

Did her greed, her insatiable need for a girl with pretty blue eyes and an alluring smirk cause her to consume her without meaning to?

She was the weak link. Always had been. She held Tally and Abigail back. Everyone knew it. She was just the stupid Cession nobody. Destined to be not even a footnote in someone’s history. She wasn’t meant to be. Shouldn’t even exist. A halfbreed. Not native enough for the tribe and not refined enough for the High Atlantics. Not the good little soldier who the officers smiled upon. Not a witch. Not a civilian.

Not even strong enough, fast enough, smart enough to keep her girl safe the one moment she needed to.

But, Scylla couldn't be gone, could she? Raelle slowly lifted her hand, left palm hazy as she blinked against the tears coating her lashes. The S had been there. She was sure of it. Everyone thought she was crazy, but she saw it. 

Scylla’s S.

Every mistake, every regret, every stupid thing she’d ever done, weighed on her like chains, drawing her down to her knees. 

But, she had one chance.

No one would listen.

She could still save Scylla.

Keep her safe.

Do one thing right. 

The beach. She would be at the beach. They talked so much about it. The one place Scylla felt safe. Raelle could keep her safe. Could make her happy. She failed everyone else. Her Mama. Her Pop. Abigail. Tally. Anacostia. 

Not Scylla. Not yet.

Everyone was wrong. 

She could meet her at the beach. 

They could be together.

Scylla could banish the Wendigo inside her for one more moment, one mere second, and allow Raelle the chance to tell her she loved her too.

Raelle just had to find her. Get to her. Get to the beach.

As if possessed, the monster inside caused her creaky bones to break and meld back together, crunch into moveable sticks that stumbled toward the lockers. Rickety fingers dug and dug, clumsy twigs in mud, jutting and stabbing until tiny patches dotted her palms like stars in the midnight sky. Burning and beckoning to touch her skin. To take her back to that night. That tree. That moment she floated above the earth and met the edges of eternity with the girl of her dreams. So close to being one with the birds that used to fly high overhead back in the Cession. When she was closer than ever to being Nanabozho rather than the Wendigo. 

She could be with Scylla. Keep her promise to be with her. To go swim in the ocean with her.

To be hers.

The others would understand. They wouldn’t even care. They could go on with their lives, unburdened and free to succeed. To be top of their class without the heavy weight of the Cession. Tally wouldn’t have to pretend like she couldn't stand to be around Raelle anymore. Abigail wouldn’t have to continue to worry about her life being ruined.

Her Pop wouldn’t have to keep wondering when his daughter would die.

Everyone would be happy. 

She wanted everyone to be happy. 

She could be nice.

She could do the right thing. Listen to the guilt whispering in the back of her mind and finally stop being the reckless waste of talent others said she was. Stop blowing it and be the blame for ruined lives. Remove herself from the narrative. 

She curled her hands into a fist around the salva.

She was going to find Scylla and be with her. 

She wasn’t dead.

Raelle believed it.

They could be together.

She just had to go to her.

Go to the beach. 

Their beach.

Fly away from the demons and darkness.

Fly away.

She could fix everything.

Finally make her mama proud.

Finally be the person her Pop said she could be.

The brave fixer Anacostia called her once.

She could fix it all.

Find the one person she could save.

Who had saved her.

She just had to _go_ to do it.

Raelle stumbled away from the locker, the burn of the salva so hot against her skin it was like fire captured in her palm. Her eyes drafted over her bed, and a bolt of pure ice stabbed through her heart, glacial and freezing in its jagged sharp edges. The fire burned and the ice twisted as she saw her.

Scylla.

Curled on her bed like she had a handful of times before. Ethereal in her beauty. Hypnotizing smile and eyes that begged Raelle to give in, to believe in her, to crash into the waters and sink below the surface because there was a hand to catch her, to hold her, to guide her back to the light and the warmth. Away from the hopeless words spit at her spirit from the looming storms in her mind and soul.

Her salvation.

The person who she wanted to save more than anyone. The one she was put on this earth to be with. Flashes of forever in the curve of a mouth and dip of a chin. 

Death was life and life was death and only Scylla understood the unbreakable bond their spirits could create.

She was so beautiful.

And, Raelle had promised to be by her side, no matter what.

No matter what.

She hadn’t.

When Scylla needed her, she was gone.

Raelle’s face crumpled as she watched a ghostly grin, soft and gentle, grace her lover’s face. Watched how she spread across the small bunk, toes tickling the old quilt her grandma had given her. The way, if Raelle tilted her head, the edges of the dreamcatcher swept over a marble face, the intricate weaving shielding the brunette from the monsters and demons.

From the Wendigo.

From her.

Raelle could feel the brush of tender breath against the back of her neck, the comforting pull of an arm around her chest, hands clasped together, as she imagined Scylla holding her. Body curling around her and offering her shelter as they laid together. Whispered words and tender kisses daggers against the waves of melancholy. She could see herself turn in her arms, press their faces together, cradle an elegant jaw in her palms, like the goddess holding the entire world in her grasp, as she kissed sweet lips tasting of dreams and wants. Promised to fix the broken heart that beat beneath Scylla’s breast. 

They were supposed to fix each other.

Raelle was supposed to show her passion while Scylla taught her patience.

Raelle was supposed to show her devotion and loyalty while Scylla taught her confidence and strength. 

Raelle was supposed to show her how to believe in others while Scylla taught her to believe in herself.

They were supposed to discover hope. Happiness.

They were each other’s way out.

The dreamcatcher twisted in mother nature’s unseen exhale, and the vision was gone. 

Never having been there to begin with.

A mirage. A vision. A memory.

Because Raelle hadn’t shown her all the things she wanted to. 

She hadn’t been Scylla’s way out.

Not the way Scylla deserved.

Would Tally be next? Abigail? Glory? Byron? Would she bring about their ways out, as well?

Would they see Scylla before she did?

Could she have one last chance to show Scylla what she promised to? 

She was out there still. Lost. And no one was searching. No one was looking for her. Showing her the devotion and loyalty and care and  _ love _ Raelle vowed to give her.

She would. She would not break that promise. Not to Scylla. It was an oath. An unbreakable undeniable unending vow.

She would find Scylla, wherever she was. 

Go to the beach. The lighthouse. 

Safety.

They would be safe.

Scylla had to be safe.

Because she couldn’t be dead.

If she was dead, how was Raelle still alive?


End file.
